


After Hours

by Traxits



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Ambiguous Relationship, M/M, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 05:51:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7422388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Traxits/pseuds/Traxits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reno stayed late after work just to finish his report.  There should not have been music drifting down the hall from the sparring room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After Hours

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [here](http://traxits.tumblr.com/post/146215180097/tsengreno-24) on my Tumblr.

Reno reached up and rubbed the bridge of his nose, sighing as he peered around his own hand to glare at the report he was still working on. His hand dropped away and he hauled out the grammar book that he had lifted from Tseng’s apartment his first or second night Above.

(He didn’t fool himself into thinking that he’d gotten it out without Tseng noticing. But he comforted himself with the fact that if Tseng had it first, then Tseng had also needed it at some point. Tseng wouldn’t judge him for needing it occasionally, especially with how much handwritten crap they were expected to turn in.)

He flicked the book open to the gold paperclip he used to mark the quick ref section, and he slid his finger down the page, looking for–

His ears pricked, and his head came up as he heard those first few notes of music drifting into the room. His eyes narrowed, and he hesitated for just a second before he snapped the book closed, dropped it back in his desk, and headed down the hall. His fingers twitched, but he didn’t have the mag rod in hand. It was still in his jacket sleeve, and that was draped over the back of his chair. The only light on down the hall was the sparring room, and he glanced back at his chair before he headed on to investigate.

This late, the floor should have been empty. Everyone had long since left, and Reno had doubled back just so no one (Rude) would know how much time he spent working on his reports. He leaned against the doorway in the sparring room, and he snorted.

“What’re you doin’ here, Boss?”

Tseng shrugged, but he didn’t turn to look at Reno. He stripped of his jacket, and Reno’s brow furrowed as he studied the line of Tseng’s back. Tense. The man was always tense though, so in and of itself, that meant nothing. But there was something strange, something–

“Your report can wait,” Tseng said, and Reno blinked as Tseng finally turned and leaned back against the table with the radio. The music was low, soft and easy, the sort of thing Reno had heard at the parties that the Suits attended. He could feel his stomach sinking even before Tseng opened his mouth for the question.

“Oh, hell no,” Reno said quickly, holding up his hands. "Don’t even think it–”

“Do you know how to dance, Reno?” Tseng had a little grin touching the corners of his mouth, and Reno sighed loudly, his head tipping back. Tseng acted like he hadn’t said a damn thing.

“Yeah,” he retorted. “With real music an’ not this shit, yo.”

Tseng held out his hand, and Reno stared at him. The music played on, and so help him, but Reno was pretty sure he stayed still there, looking at Tseng, for long enough that it changed songs. The music was so bland that he couldn’t be sure, though.

He rolled his eyes then and he crossed the room, kicking his shoes off at the door. Tseng flicked his hair back with a practiced tilt of his head, and Reno took his hand. He didn’t wait for Tseng to pull him in or position him. He’d watched Reeve spin enough young ladies around the last Shinra party that he knew what he was supposed to look like. He stepped in close though, closer than Reeve had stood with any of his dance partners. Tseng’s eyes narrowed, and Reno grinned.

They didn’t do this at the office. Officially, they didn’t do this at all.

He dipped his head in close to Tseng’s ear. "’M I leadin’, Boss?“ he asked, his voice low. Breathy. Because he could and Tseng had started this and–

“Eventually,” Tseng’s voice was just as low as Reno’s. Promising start, even if the music was shit.


End file.
